


Releasing Tension

by Lisa_Telramor



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Comfort Sex, Consensual Kink, Light Bondage, M/M, Post-Case, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa_Telramor/pseuds/Lisa_Telramor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kudo Shinichi has returned and Saguru finds himself spending more and more cases with him. After a particularly stressful case, Shinichi invites him back to the Kudo manor to unwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Releasing Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 DCMK Yaoi kinkmeme  
> Prompt: The two detectives have worked several cases together since Shinichi returned, and an after-case visit to the Kudo household to eat and relax escalates.  
> Kink: Handcuffs -OR- talking each other to orgasm

  
In the four point six months since Kudo Shinichi’s return (and the subsequent shocking fallout with the collapse of an organization that almost went as high as the prime minister in infiltrating the government) Saguru had run into him five times, twice on Kid heists, twice ending up on the same case due to extenuating circumstances, one of which involved being kidnapped for ransom, and once at a festival that Kuroba had prodded him to attend. At each meeting, Saguru found his opinion of the other detective to shift ever so slightly from his first impressions.  
  
 **([Read more...](http://lisa-telramor.livejournal.com/49018.html#cutid1)[Collapse](http://lisa-telramor.livejournal.com/49018.html#cutid1)  )**

Kudo Shinichi had seemed like a rival in a roundabout way, someone Saguru had read about in newspapers and who had also faced Kaitou Kid in a game of wits and almost won. A detective, then, who Saguru could respect in his abilities if not his personality as at the time he had no first impression to work off of. After meeting the detective, Saguru had wondered at his seriousness. He looked remarkably like Kuroba and the furrowed brow and tight frown that had stayed on his face the whole first case they worked together felt off because of that resemblance.

Their next meeting was at a Kid heist and the manic grin on Kudo’s face as he dived into the fray after Kid was as different from their previous meeting as could be. Saguru rewrote his impression of Kudo as a serious person to view Kudo as a person who knew what situations called for levity and what did not. Granted, Saguru found that he more often than not took Kid heists with utmost seriousness, but for someone who worked as many murders as Kudo did, perhaps running off after a thief was as good a break as any.

When Saguru ran into Kudo at the festival, Saguru had been with Kuroba and Nakamori-chan, bullied into dressing in a yukata and Kuroba laughing at how the golden brown cloth with the dark brown swirl patterns that Baaya had chosen for him went with Saguru’s hair. Kudo was walking with a group of people, a young woman in a blue and red yukata, an older man dressed in western fashion, the slouching figure of the infamous Sleeping Mouri Kogoro, and four children all dressed in yukata.

Three of the children had run ahead, laughing and heading toward a food stand and Kudo had watched them with a regretful smile. The woman—Mouri Ran, Hakuba had remembered later—had said something to Kudo and h is smile had frozen like it was going to shatter.

Then Kuroba followed Saguru’s line of sight and had paused with a flicker of understanding—if Saguru didn’t already know he was Kid…—before grinning. “Friends of yours?”

“Acquaintances,” Saguru had said, and Aoko had perked up and demanded to be introduced.

They’d spent the rest of the evening tagging along with Kudo’s group, and while the whole affair had been civil, even fun with Kuroba providing the entertainment, Saguru had been aware of the foot between Kudo and Mouri-chan the entire time and how Kudo never once tried to bridge the gap.

***

Today was their third case together, as coincidental as all the previous ones had been. If Saguru were one to believe in a higher power, he might have wondered what it planned. Since he did not, he merely wondered how one could calculate the probability of such occurrences.  
“I wonder,” Saguru said, “how it is that almost every time we have met we have either run into a murder or our cheerfully irritating thief friend.”

Kudo snorted. He looked about as tired as Saguru felt, coiled tight from the case even though they had solved it. “Running into murders just happens around me,” Kudo said ruefully. “Now running into Kaitou Kid seems to be more your problem.”

“On the contrary, I’ve heard that you have faced him down a number of times though my source refuses to give details.” Kuroba loved to tease with information, much of it things that could almost confirm his identity of Kid but never anything concrete enough for Saguru to do anything. Saguru was sure Kuroba laughed to himself maniacally the moment he was alone and spent free hours coming up with ways to make Saguru lose his temper.

“You’re the Kid expert,” Kudo deflected. The skin around his eyes was too tight. Tension from his frame transferred to tension in his expression. Kudo was hiding something, but Saguru had no desire to upset him for curiosity’s sake. That expression lingered on the edge of the brokenness Saguru had seen at the festival.

The case had been harsh, Saguru reflected, worse than what Saguru was used to being involved with, but Saguru wondered if perhaps finding a teenage girl dead didn’t strike something deeper than the distant place Saguru’s mind went to when he solved murders. Everyone had their coping mechanisms for dealing with deaths. For Saguru it was detaching during the investigation, then forcing motivations from the suspect and deconstructing later to try and see when the scale had tipped and how it could have been prevented to hopefully apply to someone in the future before it came to murder. For Kudo who ran into murders a lot more often than Saguru did, what did he do? Was solving the case enough? As the silence grew between them, Saguru reached out, telegraphing his intention to set his hand on Kudo’s shoulder so that if it was unwelcome, Kudo could brush the gesture away. Instead Kudo watched the hand come and followed it back to Saguru’s face when it settled against the curve of his shoulder.

“She got her justice, Kudo-kun. We found all the evidence they will need to shut her killer away for the rest of his life.”

“It won’t bring her back, though.” Kudo looked back at the street they’d long left behind, probably picturing the taped off house clearly. “If we’d been a few minutes earlier…”

“We’d have seen her die and been able to do nothing,” Saguru said bluntly. The young woman had been in the house too long and had been hurt too long. If they hadn’t found her corpse, she would have soon been one even with medical attention. “Because we were those few moments late, we caught her killer.”

“It’s always the kids and teenagers that are the hardest,” Kudo said. “The ones with the brightest futures ahead of them, you know?”

Saguru thought back to the girl’s long brown hair and the photo of before she was kidnapped. She looked enough like Mouri-chan that Saguru could understand where he was really coming from. “I know.”

Kudo shook his head and moved away from Saguru’s hand. “It’s been a long day,” he said. “And if I remember, you were on your way to get lunch when we ran into each other.”

Saguru’s stomach chose that moment to growl and he shifted embarrassedly. “Funnily enough, I never did get anything to eat,” he muttered. Between seeing Kudo and noticing the blood on the curtain, there hadn’t been time to think about his stomach.

“Want to get something to eat?” Kudo offered. He had a strained smile on his face.

With a slow nod, Saguru felt like he was making an important decision.

“Great. I kind of just want to crash on the couch with a book and takeaway.” Kudo waved a hand. “There’s a Chinese place that delivers.”

“When you say ‘Chinese food’…”

Kudo laughs, the tension in his face loosening. “Japanese-Chinese food, not like the Americanized stuff. Not that they aren’t both interesting, I’m just more used to the Japanese influenced food.”

“I’ve never had either,” Saguru said. He rarely ate out when he was in Japan, and when he did, he either went for traditional food or gravitated toward European foods. “I have tried British-Chinese cuisine.”

“You’ll have to tell me how it compares.”

Saguru smiled back. Kudo was much calmer than he had been a moment ago. Because he would have company? Because Saguru hadn’t turned him down? And they were headed to Kudo’s home, a place where Kudo undoubtedly felt more at ease and could give Saguru insights into Kudo’s life and upbringing. How was the famous Detective of the East living these days? Kudo was a puzzle like Kuroba could be, but Saguru was content to let Kudo’s pieces fall into place naturally rather than digging for them like he had with much of what he knew about Kuroba.

The train trip to Beika was silent, and the mood tipped back toward tension. Saguru could see it in every step Kudo took once they left the train and how his shoulders were stiff when he pulled out his phone. “Calling in the order,” he explained. “We should beat the order here by less than ten minutes if I call now. That’s enough time to get indoors and set out plates and glasses. Any preferences?”

“I trust your judgment,” Saguru said.

Kudo flashed him a smile and rattled off an order that sounded practiced. If Saguru remembered correctly, Kudo lived alone and had been living alone since he entered high school. How often would he have ordered out or gotten convenience meals? It was likely that Kudo could cook, or at least cook enough to get by. Interesting.

“I hope you like gyouza, mapo tofu, or subuta.”

“Subuta is…?”

“Sort of like sweet and sour pork.”

“I am sure it will be satisfactory.”

Kudo shook his head. “Most people would say ‘that sounds good’ or something.”

“Most people have dismal vocabularies,” Saguru said, getting a smile from Kudo.

The walk from the station was longer than Saguru had anticipated, though that was less than surprising as he had never been to Kudo’s home before. As they walked, they traded brief, empty dialogue about their surroundings, the weather—much more humid than England this time of year, but no more wet in general—and little things that popped into their heads. Saguru learned that Kudo spent several summers in Hawaii with his parents. Kudo learned that Saguru went to a boarding school for primary school and had tutors for the majority of his final year of high school instead of attending classes. They discussed the advantages of world travel, the dissatisfaction with American public transport, and (of all things) the history of the Big Ben clock tower. Saguru was pleasantly surprised to learn that Kudo had been to London once.

“I didn’t get much of a chance to enjoy it,” Kudo said. They had reached his street and he fished keys out of his pocket. “I wanted to see the Holmes museum,” he sighed. “Of course a case took up most of the trip…” He looked sad in a way that wasn’t disappointment from missing a point of interest on a trip, but Saguru politely ignored that as Kudo unlocked the front gate.

“Next time you shall have to visit for that sole purpose,” Saguru said.

“That would be great.” Kudo kicked his shoes off in the doorway while Saguru neatly lined his up to exchange them for guest slippers. He hung up his coat on the rack. “Make yourself at home,” Kudo said, wandering off down the hall.

Saguru guessed it was toward the kitchen. A look around showed a door to what seemed to be a family room, and another to a library full of books from floor to ceiling. Saguru took a moment to take them in. His appreciation for them doubled when he noticed they were mysteries.

“My Dad’s,” Kudo said from behind him. There was a tray with a bottle of tea, two glasses, and chopsticks on it for when the food got there. Kudo moved past Saguru into the library. “He’s a mystery author so he does a lot of reading. I grew up picking and choosing off these shelves.” He smiled. “You can’t really blame me for becoming a detective when I was raised off mysteries.” The tray went on a coffee table. There were two large couches and a desk at the other end of the room—Kudo’s father’s desk? Saguru wandered closer to the shelves.

“Doyle’s works,” he said when he found them.

“They were one of my biggest influences,” Kudo said. “Though I think it’s safe to say they were yours as well.”

“Wear a deerstalker and Inverness in public once and no one lest you forget it,” Saguru said with a sniff. “I was in high school.”

Kudo grinned, letting his expression say everything for him. He looked remarkably like Kuroba when he did that.

Saguru rolled his eyes. “It’s nice here,” he said, more to change the subject than anything else.

“I added the couches and coffee table,” Kudo said. “It used to only be Dad’s study. Seemed a shame not to enjoy it properly.”

From somewhere in the mansion a bell rang and Kudo looked toward the door. “That would be the food. I’ll be back.”

Saguru watched him go. The tension in Kudo’s body had lessened since they arrived, but it was still there, present in how Kudo did not seem able to sit still. He gave the books a final onceover. Kudo’s father was Kudo Yusaku, author of the Night Baron mysteries. The series were less detective novels and more morally ambiguous, the protagonist less a hero than an antihero. The books had been interesting and refreshing, but also troubling. Reading them as a teenager, Saguru had found parallels with Kid that had not sat well with him. Kid had a bit stricter morals on life and death than the Night Baron though.

“Not going to sit down?” Kudo said from the doorway. He had a bag of food in his hands.

“I was merely perusing the titles. There are a great number of authors I am less than familiar with.”

“Dad liked a lot of American authors. There are British, French and German authors in there too, along with Japanese and Korean… most of them are in the original language too.” Kudo set out the delivery containers, plopping down a bag filled with garlic-scented gyouza, two small containers of white rice, and two circular plastic dishes filled with meat. “Come eat. You’re probably hungrier than I am at this point.”

The scent of food made Saguru’s stomach rumble with anticipation. He sat in the couch across from Kudo and picked up one of the pairs of chopsticks. The delivery container held twp flimsy paper plates, but they would be sufficient in bringing food to his mouth without spills. Taking one of the dumplings and some of the mapo tofu, he nibbled on his meal. The spice in the tofu was a pleasant surprise.

“Good?” Kudo asked. Even seated, his foot tapped like he still couldn’t relax. He had gravitated to the pork dish and eaten through a dumpling already.

“Different than what I am used to,” Saguru admitted, “but it is satisfactory.”

“Good. I got what I like but not everyone likes spicy or sweet.”

Conversation was put aside to make their way steadily through the meal. Saguru found he ate more than he normally would have; he had been hungrier than he had thought. The pork was too sweet for his tastes, but the tofu was decent. The gyouza were tasty, but they left a strong taste of garlic in the back of his mouth. They washed the meal down with chilled tea that probably had come from a station vending machine at one point or another. It was cool and refreshing though, and Saguru leaned back against the couch as he determined that he was full despite the temptation to pick at more of the tofu.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that Kudo had picked at his food less and less as time passed.  
“Thank you for the food,” Saguru said.

Kudo blinked and looked up from moving sweet pork around his plate with a distracted smile. “Thanks for the company. It’s been…it’s been quiet lately.”

“I suppose you do not get many visitors,” Saguru said, watching Kudo’s face.

Kudo shrugged. “Hattori visits. I’m friends with Professor Agasa next door and his ward, Haibara Ai, is nice. My parents pop by from time to time… And sometimes Ran visits…” His fingers tightened around his chopsticks and his chin dropped several centimeters; defensive, upset and trying to hide it. Kudo was not the actor Kuroba was though.

“Forgive me; it is not my place to ask, however…” Saguru weighed the pros and cons of continuing and whether his question was likely to ruin the framework friendship they had begun to build. “I had assumed that you and Mouri-chan were close?”

“We were and are,” Kudo said. “But she can’t forgive me for something and I don’t expect her to. We dated and I still care for her, but it isn’t going to happen.”

Well, that explained some of the loneliness and distance from the festival. There was a surprising amount of open emotion in Kudo’s expression as well, even with the more defensive posture. Saguru nodded slowly. “Thank you for your honesty.”

Kudo laughed like it was a joke, tense and unhappy again, like before they reached the mansion. He stood up, putting the leftovers onto the tray. “I can be honest about this at least,” he muttered under his breath. Saguru thought he probably was not meant to hear that. Kudo reached for Saguru’s plate and Saguru met him halfway. Their hands brushed as Kudo took it from him and there was some kind of energy that passed between them. The air felt heavier than a moment before and Kudo took his time taking the plate away. Saguru’s throat felt dry even though he had finished a glass of tea just a few minutes ago.

“Hakuba-kun,” Kudo said, not looking at him as he added things to the tray. “If you need a place to stay tonight, I have a guest room you can use.”

There was a strong likelihood Saguru wasn’t imagining the implications behind Kudo’s invitation to spend the night at the mansion, but he couldn’t be sure. When in doubt, bluntness often trumped subtlety. “Kudo-kun, what exactly are you offering?”

Kudo looked up, a flash of blue eyes that looked away just as fast. “A guest room. Or. A bed to share if you’re willing,” he said in a rush.

Saguru thought of how Kudo’s hand had trembled just once when they found the body today, how it had been rock steady when they deduced and when he saw the picture of the girl before her kidnapping and murder, and how even with his body steady Saguru could sense some part of his mind and soul coming undone. Kudo would have nightmares tonight. It could just be an offer for warmth and companionship, but he needed to be sure. “What leads you to believe I am interested in men?”

Kudo laughed, more an explosion of breath than anything else, and met Saguru’s eyes. “I don’t know how you feel toward me, but if the way your eyes followed your friend at the festival was any indication, you’re interested. I look similar enough to him that you could probably have a fantasy or—”

Saguru put a hand on Kudo’s wrist and Kudo’s words petered off into silence. “Kudo-kun, if I slept with you, it would be with you, not a fantasy of Kuroba.”

“Oh.”

Kudo’s pulse was fast under Saguru’s fingers. They still barely knew each other (though they were moving forward past that stage quickly) and Kudo likely wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship when his emotions were still caught up with Mouri-chan. And yet Saguru found that the thought wasn’t objectionable. He respected Kudo’s intellect and physically there was nothing to complain about. Saguru turned his hand over to encircle Kudo’s wrist. His thumb brushed against the soft underside of Kudo’s wrist. Kudo’s eyes slid shut and he took a heavy breath.

“What do you need?” Saguru asked softly. He kept his thumb moving in gentle circles.

“To not think for a while,” Kudo said.

“That is doable,” Saguru said. “What are your comfort levels?”

Kudo shook his head, eyes still closed. “If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you.”

“Mild bondage?” Saguru asked. He had not taken a great number of lovers over the years, but he had determined his preferences fairly quickly. His control-driven, detail-oriented side transferred into the bedroom. The only question remained was if Kudo was compatible with those tastes.

“I’ve never tried,” Kudo said. “But I’m willing to find out.”

“Good,” Saguru said. “That’s good.” His mind felt very blank, riveted on where his hand still touched Kudo’s.

Kudo pulled his hand free. “I’ll clean up and…” He nodded vaguely at the rest of the house. “Um. You can wait in my room. Upstairs, second door on the left.”

Saguru nodded. Kudo was too tense as he left, but that was okay. Saguru could change that. Saguru would have an opportunity to help Kudo do a lot more than relax, perhaps even help him left go of some of the tangled emotions inside of him. He wet his lips, mouth still feeling dry, and headed up the stairs.

***

Kudo’s bedroom was orderly but without the obsessive neatness Saguru had. He had a bookshelf with some favorite books—Doyle’s works at eye level, likely subconsciously. A desk was at one end of the room and a Western style bed at the other. A few books sat on the desk, but Saguru didn’t pry. A football sat next to the desk and Saguru remembered that Kudo was a fan of the sport. Somehow it had slipped his mind that Kudo was also a player.

The bed was made but not meticulously so. Lumps made peaks and valleys across the dark blue bedspread. Saguru wasn’t sure if he should sit on the bed or take the desk chair while he waited. It had been a while since he last had such an encounter, and this was the first where he knew the person professionally and socially and cared about how he might be viewed afterward. No matter. He doubted Kudo would let sex get in the way of any future interactions between them.

He touched his pocket. He’d detoured to the entrance hall to grab a few things from his coat. Police issue handcuffs weren’t his first choice in bondage gear—he had cuffs at home that were less potentially harmful—but they would do and Saguru had a hunch that Kudo would probably get more out of real cuffs than leather ones. The subconscious could do a lot, and Kudo seemed to be holding onto some form of guilt. Perhaps they symbolism behind this would help him let go of it if he were ‘caught.’ (Saguru sometimes wondered if Kuroba would get off on cuffs or if they’d set him into a panic attack. With Kuroba, it could go either way.) There were two folded handkerchiefs in his pocket as well to provide some padding from the steel cuffs. Harming Kudo was the last thing he wanted to do.

Saguru was still standing in the middle of the room undecided when Kudo entered. He forced himself to stand straighter to look more confident and in control.

“How do you want to do this?” Kudo asked. His hands were in his pockets, thumbs out and tapping against his hips in a way that drew attention to them.

“On the bed, preferably,” Saguru said with a smile he hoped would calm Kudo down.

Kudo coughed a laugh in return; it had been marginally successful.

Saguru pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket. “If you would rather use something else, I am sure a belt or scarf would work equally well.”

Kudo’s eyes riveted on the cuffs and he went still. “No. No those’ll work.”

Good. He’d guessed correctly. Saguru crossed to Kudo and stepped purposefully into his space. He could feel the tremor that went through the other detective from this close and hear the click of his throat as he swallowed hard. With the hand not holding the cuffs, Saguru reached up to cup Kudo’s face. “May I?”

“That’s kind of the point, right?” Kudo said, lips quirking upward. His eyes closed as Saguru leaned in for a chaste press of their lips together. When Kudo exhaled shakily through his nose, Saguru tilted his head to kiss deeper. Kudo moved with it. He tasted like the garlic from the gyouza and a hint of sweetness from the pork. Saguru let his hand wander to Kudo’s shirt and linger on the buttons. It was a bit tricky to work them open left handed (he didn’t have Kuroba’s dexterity no matter how much he occasionally wished he did) but once he had a sizable gap, he let his palm brush against Kudo’s collar bone. He marveled at how it made Kudo shiver.

“Bed,” Saguru suggested with a firm press in that direction. Kudo let himself be pushed back, knees folding when the bed hit the back of his legs. He sat with a thump and Saguru set the handcuffs on the bed in favor of continuing unbuttoning Kudo’s shirt with both hands. With Kudo sitting, Saguru had leverage to control their kiss and he took advantage of it, making it deeper and slower. By the time Saguru slid the shirt from Kudo’s shoulders they were both breathless.

“There are rules to this,” Saguru said. His fingers fiddled with the button of Kudo’s jeans.

“Yeah?” Kudo’s eyes remained riveted on Saguru’s lips.

“Naturally.” He took his hands away so Kudo could focus. “The point is pleasure in these activities after all; I would not want to inadvertently and irresponsibly cross a line that could have been avoided. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, tell me. If you wish to stop, tell me so and I will do so.”

Kudo looked a bit more alert at that. “One problem with that, what if I can’t string words together or say something like “don’t stop” only it doesn’t come out right?”

“Many people employ the use of safe words. A practice I have used before uses colors—green for good, yellow for discomfort, red for stop. Would this suffice?”

“I think I could manage that, yes.”

“Now how do you feel about blindfolds?”

Saguru knew by the full body shiver that the answer was positive.

It took a few minutes to get comfortable, but by the end Saguru had Kudo in the middle of the bed on his knees with a tie-turned-blindfold wrapped over his eyes. Saguru tugged Kudo’s hands behind him, wrapped first in the handkerchiefs, and clicked the cuffs in place. Kudo tested them, rolling his shoulders a bit to check what mobility remained and what was most comfortable.

“Green,” Kudo said without prompting.

“Good.” Saguru slid off the bed to strip from his shirt and slacks. He left his underwear on for the moment and circled the bed to take in the full effect of Kudo tied up in its middle.  
Saguru could see Kudo’s breath speed up just from being left alone; his head tilted to try and keep track of Saguru by hearing alone. He was positioned on his knees, legs spread for balance in a way that showed off his genitals, which were starting to perk up with interest. Kudo had muscular thighs and buttocks from a combination of sports and actively chasing down criminals and Saguru eyed them with appreciation. He wanted to run his hand along the tense curve of Kudo’s ass to the soft curve of skin behind his knees. And he would do so, but not yet.

There were a scattering of scars across Kudo’s body, perhaps not surprising considering the nature of crimes he worked. Gunshot wounds, stabbings, abrasions, burns, tiny crescents scattered and barely visible on his forearms that were likely from slivers of glass. Closer inspection revealed fine, spider web-like lines that could only be stretch marks, like Kudo had had a sudden growth spurt at some point and his skin had not quite been able to keep up with the rest of his body. They painted a fascinating study of Kudo’s life and still didn’t give insight into the depths of Kudo’s psyche. Saguru didn’t need to know all of Kudo for this though; he needed to be able to read him just enough to choose the right pressure points for Kudo to let go.

The bed creaked as Saguru climbed into it, dipping on Kudo’s right. Kudo’s head turned, but his body stayed still, facing the headboard. His gasp when Saguru brushed a feather light touch along Kudo’s neck was enough to stir Saguru’s groin. He liked using blindfolds. Half the pleasure of the blindfolded came from its surprise; his came from their reaction to the unexpected.

“Try not to move,” Saguru murmured. He lets his fingers ghost to Kudo’s collarbone, feeling the smooth skin there and how it shifted with a twitch of his shoulders and Kudo’s breaths.  
Kudo’s lips parted, but not to speak. He was tense as Saguru moved his hands lower, across pectorals, avoiding pleasure points of nipples to feel the bumps of his ribs and the firmness of abdominal muscles. This tension was different than the pain and stress tension from before, better than the defeat and distress. His palms went around Kudo’s back and the tight corded muscle on either side of his spine.

He paused with his hands below Kudo’s shoulders, tucked between the wrenched back arms in a facsimile of an embrace. It brought Saguru’s face almost touching Kudo’s and their bodies near flush. Saguru kept an inch between them. Kudo’s breath was hot and fast on his cheek. For a moment Saguru debated a kiss, but no, not yet—he brushed his nose teasingly down along Kudo’s jaw and felt him shudder and fight down the desire to turn into the touch. In a burst of impulse, he nipped at Kudo’s chin and Kudo squeaked. No negative reactions yet, in fact Kudo was already fully hard. Saguru tucked use of teeth into the moderation category until he saw further reactions.

Moving back down Kudo’s body, he kept close enough that his heat could be felt, but not close enough to brush against him as his hands pressed back down Kudo’s sides and to his buttocks and finally down the corded muscles of his thighs like Saguru had wanted to not even ten minutes earlier. Saguru stopped with both palms cupping a knee each. Kudo took deep breaths that had his erection bob with each ragged exhale.

“You look beautiful like this,” Saguru said. “Ravishable.” Thumbs slid along the inner curve of Kudo’s thighs.

“I’m here if you want me,” Kudo said, voice unsteady. The muscles in his thighs twitched the higher Saguru’s thumbs got toward his groin.

“Ah, but that’s half the pleasure. Looking, but not quite touching.” Saguru’s thumbs rubbed the juncture between thigh and hip. He was careful not to touch Kudo’s erection.

“Shit,” Kudo hissed. His erection jumped, tapping his abdominals and leaving a light shine of precum there.

Saguru retraced his path up Kudo’s torso intent to follow it back down with lips and tongue this time. “Your heart is beating fast,” Saguru said between kisses. “I can see it in your throat…” He sucks at the pulse point and Kudo chokes on a groan mixed with what might want to be words but were only disjointed syllables. “Feel it in your chest…” He laved over a nipple and Held Kudo still as his whole torso jerked into the feeling. Saguru shifted to relieve pressure in his underwear even as he moved to the other nipple. He dipped lower and Kudo’s stomach muscles were tight and anticipatory. “I can see it in your cock,” he breathed against the body part in question.

Kudo broke. Whatever had held him back—pride, self consciousness, thoughts of life or the case—it was gone now and Kudo was focused solely on the moment, solely on the surrender of it. “Please!” Kudo choked. He twisted, hips bucking and trying to reach something, anything and his arms struggled to reach out and touch. “Touch me, take me, do something!”

Saguru pressed one step further. “You could probably come from just this,” Saguru said. He leaned back so Kudo couldn’t touch him, couldn’t even feel his warmth. “Come from restraint, voice and a breath.”

With a groan that was closer to a sob, Kudo thrust into open air. His shoulders wrenched uncomfortably with the motion and Saguru knew it couldn’t be drawn out much longer for that reason alone; he didn’t want Kudo to harm himself. “Hakuba, touch me or this won't be green much longer!”

Giving no warning, Saguru lapped at Kudo’s cock, only catching his hips after the contact to control the motions. Kudo yelled, legs shaking and hips struggling for more contact. Saguru didn’t linger or play. He took him in as far as he could and brought him to the brink as well as he was able. Only when he could feel the tremble of orgasm just a hair away did he pull back and Kudo sobbed in frustration, beyond words.

“ _Come_ ,” Saguru commanded in Kudo’s ear, voice harsh from the abuse to his throat.

Kudo came with a hiccupping gasp, body jerking against Saguru’s own. He slumped panting against Saguru’s chest. Behind his back, his hands hung limp in the cuffs.

Saguru spared one hand to jerk himself free from his briefs and in three quick strokes, he was coming too.

When the after trembles stopped, Kudo was still limp against him, completely wrung out. Mechanically, Saguru found the cuff key he’d left on the bedside table and undid the handcuffs. He tossed them aside. Pulling the handkerchiefs off, he found that Kudo’s wrists would have some bruising, but no metal burn or deep bruising as they would have otherwise had. He rubbed them lightly to restore some of the blood flow before taking the blindfold from Kudo’s eyes.

Blue eyes blinked at him before Kudo buried his face in Saguru’s hip. Saguru stroked Kudo’s hair. It was softer than his own, and for all Kudo’s resemblance to Kuroba in appearance, it was far softer than Kuroba’s as well. It took a moment to re position them, but Saguru got them both on their sides with a blanket around them and let his arms curl around Kudo. Kudo caught him tight again the moment he was comfortable. His shuddery breathing was finally evening out.

“Are you all right?” Saguru asked. He moved his hand up and down Kudo’s back like soothing a child.

From the aborted sounds, it took a moment for Kudo to find his voice. “Yes.” Another breath and then, “That was intense.”

“In a good way or…?”

“Good.” The response is swift and emphatic. Kudo relaxed fully against Saguru. “I needed that.” His head cushioned on Saguru’s shoulder. “Did you…?”

“Shortly after you did. I enjoyed this as well.”

“You’re a little sadistic, aren’t you?” Kudo muttered.

“Perhaps.”

They were quiet a while, listening to each other breathe and enjoying warmth and contact that neither of them was normally inclined to reach out for.

“Sometimes I don’t like working murders,” Kudo said after a long while. “It can be hard to see the good things and when so many of the ones I come across are recent cases, I find myself wondering why I couldn’t have gotten there a few minutes earlier, a day, anything… Sometimes the people that die aren’t very good people, but it’s the ones who…” Kudo sighed. Saguru rubbed his back. “I guess it’s good that I can still feel in some ways.”

“I cannot say that I would be still practicing if I were involved with as many murders as you are,” Saguru ventured. “If I were, I likely would not have the same view of humanity that I do now.” He smiled wryly. “Detectives are cynics by nature and more inclined to be pessimists toward humanity, but we must have some hope or we would not keep trying.”

“It was a game once,” Kudo said. “Long ago. Then people I care about almost died and murders weren’t just mysteries to be solved.”

When had Kudo changed his mind? During the period when he vanished from the public eye? Before then? After his return? Saguru likely will never know. “I prefer thefts. Stakes tend to be smaller in the long run.”

“I’m a bit jealous you can choose,” Kudo said, and there was no answer to that. Kudo had the worst track record for running into crimes. Kudo yawned. “Anyway, thank you. If you hadn’t come with me I probably would have been up all night thinking of the girl… Instead I might actually get sleep and sleep through the night.”

“Anytime, Kudo-san.”

“Still using ‘-san’ after we’ve slept together?” Kudo said. He levered himself onto one elbow to look Saguru in the face, one eyebrow raised.

“I wouldn’t want to presume,” Saguru said.

“We’re naked in bed together—” He shifted and glanced down. “Mostly naked. Your underwear are still on one of your legs.”

“I am aware.”

He laughed. Kudo was almost as fascinating as Kuroba in his unpredictability. “We’re friends. Call me Kudo.” He pecked Saguru on the nose. “And if we’re in bed together again, you can call me Shinichi while you’re in it.”

“I will keep that in mind.” So they were friends after all. Interesting. When had they crossed the line from acquaintances? “You may do the same.”

Kudo smiled and yawned again. “Sleep? It’s been a long day.”

That was a gross understatement. “That it has.” They shifted to make use of more pillows and blankets but remained curled together. Somewhere in the process, Saguru finally lost his underwear. “Goodnight…Shinichi.” After all, Kudo had said he could use his first name if Saguru was in his bed with him.

He felt more than heard Kudo laugh against his collarbone. “Goodnight, Saguru.”

The mysteries surrounding Kudo had barely been broached. Saguru felt that he might get future chances to learn more. He wouldn’t refuse a repeat of this night.


End file.
